Work Text:
Yeast - hyung
Yeast - dorm empty
Yeast - 🍆💦❓🙋
Cheeks - dude we have dp toniggt
Yeast - ??? Rlly??? With who ????
Cheeks - what do you mean
Cheeks - DANCE PRWCTIS
Cheeks - DUDE
Cheeks - FUCKING JESUS INNIE
Yeast - ?? I don’t wanna fuck Jesus that is not appropriate I’m Christian ✝️✝️🙅
Jisung stabs the code for the cuties dorm into the keypad with the corner of his phone, two Americanos precariously held in one hand and a bag of gummy worms held between his teeth. It takes two attempts. Jeongin can definitely hear him struggling and is just letting it happen, because he’s a bastard. Once Jisung finally gets it unlocked he makes sure to kick the door open with just enough force that it won’t risk the security deposit but that it will definitely be noticed by Minho and get Jeongin in trouble for it.
“M’here!” he yells around the bag, shuffling off his ratty slides and immediately stuffing his feet into Felix’s fluffy house slippers. No response- every bedroom door is shut except for Jeongin’s, as much of an invitation as his horrible text. Where the rest of them have all fucked off to this early is not Jisung’s problem in the slightest if it means the dorm is empty, and he’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Jeongin is splayed out on his bed, double-chinned and holding his phone inches away from his face, and he flexes his freakish toes in Jisung’s direction in greeting but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge him. Jisung dumps his phone and the two coffees onto his desk, transferring the gummy worms from his mouth to his hand and launching them at Jeongin’s chest as hard as he can. “Thanks for helping, little shit.”
Jeongin just grunts when the bag lands heavily on his chest, his combination maknae/middle child lifestyle leaving him desensitised to any sudden violence unless there is a camera on him, in which case he will scream and fight and become an innocent little guy in need of protecting from his evil hyungs who just won’t leave him alone, Stay! Even though he’s just a baby! Right now? He doesn’t even look up from his phone. From the sounds of it, he’s watching a fancam, and it might not even be Jisung’s. It’s a disappointing reaction to say the least.
Jisung shucks his hoodie, dumping it on the pre-existing pile taking residence on Jeongin’s desk chair. “You’re disgusting, by the way. Just wanted to put that out there for the audience.”
“And yet you came anyway.” Ah! So he is listening.
“I fucking better be coming if you woke me up at ten am.”
“That’s a normal time for people to wake up. You are the problem in this situation.” Jisung pouts as he throws himself into the bed beside Jeongin, wriggling his way up beside him to get his head on his shoulder and an arm over his toned chest. Jeongin scratches the top of his head like a cat as Jisung nuzzles his face into the soft, worn fabric of Jeongin’s sweatshirt. “Not kissing you until you close my door.”
Jisung gropes his left pec. Firm. “You said the dorm’s empty.” He moves on to the right for the sake of science, and his hypothesis that it will also be firm is confirmed. Science is awesome.
“It’s the principle of the matter.”
“I’m lazy. I’m already lying down.” Jisung kicks his horizontal feet for emphasis, so Jeongin pulls his hair. Jisung moans as high and girlishly as he can towards Jeongin’s ear, and is rewarded with an indelicate snort of amusement. “You’re so warm and close and you’re- you’re watching Chan-hyung’s fancam.” He tilts his head back, aiming his most unimpressed stare at Jeongin, who finally deigns to look back at him. He cocks an eyebrow and, like, wow. Jisung really is not in charge today. “You invite me into your bed just to watch another man’s fancam? Is he who you were thinking of when you thought I meant DP like DP? Am I your second choice? My sweet Iyennie, playing with my innocent heart-“
“What you are is annoying.” Jeongin, hand still gripping his hair, guides his head back further until it puts just a touch of strain on his neck before kissing him once. His voice is lower when he follows with, “Already watched yours.”
“Knew it,” Jisung mumbles, slightly dazed, and he rolls onto his back in preparation when Jeongin props himself up on one arm, tossing his phone and the gummy bears carelessly somewhere behind the pillow to free himself and cage Jisung against the bed properly. Jisung shivers when he feels the mattress dip by his head, Jeongin’s eyes already intently focused on his mouth. When they meet again Jeongin is already insistent, tongue swiping over his lips, and Jisung maybe whimpers a little bit, because truthfully he’s been awake for barely fifteen minutes and this is a lot at once. “Thought- thought you wanted the door-“
“You took too long,” Jeongin grunts, fitting one of his large hands along Jisung’s jaw, the slightest pressure applied to press his head down into the mattress. It makes him feel a little bit like he’s sinking and floating all at once, but more pressingly it makes him feel a whole lot horny. Jisung wonders if it’s too early for him to request Jeongin move that pressure lower, to squeeze his throat and take his breath away for real. “Shut up.”
Jisung blinks up at him, doe-eyed, and Jeongin scoffs a laugh that makes his eyes crinkle, worlds fonder than his attitude belies. “Make me.”
Jeongin, despite his kissing experience being limited to his “girlfriend” from middle school, a mental breakdown with Hyunjin and Han Jisung himself, is really fucking good at it. One of those people for whom the skill comes naturally. Jeongin is made to kiss the same way Jisung is made to be kissed.
He’s the type to put his whole body into it, and when he drops his entire weight on top of Jisung it’s magical. Subtle undulations here and there, hands probing, squeezing, caressing, never holding one angle too long before shifting, exploratory, and it’s why Jisung never turns down an opportunity to have him like this. Jeongin kisses like it’s all he wants to do, relentless licking into Jisung’s mouth to suck on his tongue and pull sweet sounds from his throat. It’s all so much but it never veers into overwhelming territory by the sixth sense Jeongin possesses, always staying on the right side of pleasantly consuming. It’s like nothing can get to Jisung when Jeongin’s on top of him, chests pressed together, thigh wedged between his legs, a hand still gripping and guiding his face whenever Jeongin seems appropriate. Nothing exists beyond Jeongin’s double bed and the content sounds catching in the hair's breadth separating their mouths, high and scratchy. A soft keen when Jisung catches his bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. All Jisung has to do is kiss and be kissed.
When Jisung licks behind his teeth he can taste the metal of Jeongin’s retainer, and Jeongin’s full-body shudder has the thigh against his crotch tense, a constant conduit of pleasure feeding into itself.
Their lips separate with a smack and Jisung is far too riled up to be ashamed of the way he groans in discontent, pulling on his fistful of Jeongin’s shirt to try and bring him back down. He doesn’t budge, because as Jisung may have mentioned, Jeongin is a bastard.
“You know what’s weird?” He asks instead. Jisung isn’t sure how he’s supposed to formulate a genuine response when Jeongin is suddenly pressing his lips down the column of his neck, too preoccupied with craning his head back and trying to let his legs fall open just a bit wider.
“Other than fact you’re talking and not kissing me right now?” Jisung’s breath hitches when Jeongin nips at his pulse point in reprimand. “Innie.”
Instead of continuing to kiss him like Jisung not so subtly implied, Jeongin props himself up on his elbow once more and looks him dead in the eye as he says, “I’ve never kissed your real teeth.”
Jisung stares up at him, face contorting. What the fuck do you even say to that? “Dude, what.”
“Cause of your veneers,” he says absently, eyes now trained on Jisung’s mouth but not kissing him. He gently presses his thumb into Jisung’s top lip and pushes it upwards, staring with interest when it exposes his teeth and gums. Jisung is grateful he brushed before he left.
“I didn’t have them yet when-“
“We did not kiss when I was sixteen,” Jeongin interrupts patiently, and Jisung’s attempt to pout is hindered by Jeongin’s thumb. “Stop saying we did.”
“We totally did. You’re in denial.” His words are half slurred as Jeongin runs the pad of his thumb over Jisung’s slick teeth, incisor to canine and continuing until he’s tucked away behind his molars, tugging on his cheek to get a better look. Once Jeongin had called him fascinating while he was fucking him to tears, which made Jisung feel a little bit like a bug under a microscope but in a sexy way. He feels something similar to that now, steadily getting harder and harder the longer Jeongin probes inside his mouth like some unethical dentist. Jisung behaves and lays there pliant and lets him have his way. He doesn’t mind it, really. He never knows if he’s being invited over for a play date to be the other party or the toy when it comes to Jeongin, but he’s found he enjoys it either way.
“Huh,” Jeongin mumbles, tilting his head. It’s unfairly cute, considering he’s two seconds away from activating Jisung’s gag reflex. “You’ve got the scars too. From having braces.” He scratches a fingernail lightly over the sensitive inside of his mouth and Jisung whines, blinking rapidly. It doesn’t deter him, Jeongin softly petting his cheek over the old, raised tissue. His fingers are so long. Jisung tries to swallow, drool threatening to spill over his lips, and Jeongin looks oddly endeared by it. “D’you know its saliva that makes your mouth heal fast?” He finally withdraws his fingers from his mouth and Jisung pants a breath, scowling best he can up at him when Jeongin holds his face in one hand. His fingers are sticky.
“Course I knew that. Who do you think I am?”
Jeongin hums, kissing his lips once, undeterred by the excess spit. He drags his huge ass hand down Jisung’s stomach as he says, oh so sweet, “A nerd. Can I suck your dick?”
Jisung just gurgles, kinda, because words are hard but he’s harder, and luckily he takes it for the affirmative it is. There is no ceremony to the way Jeongin tugs at the waistband of his sweats, grunting in frustration when Jisung is delayed in lifting his hips by the horny fog clouding his brain. Jeongin pulls them down his thighs to his knees and then settles between his legs, strategically trapping him, and Jisung’s breath is coming hard and fast through his nose like a panicked animal. It makes his heart race a little, being at the mercy of Jeongin’s sharp focus and searching hands. A discovery being made, over and over, or something romantic like that. It’s difficult to put it into words when Jeongin is licking his lips and subtly grinding his hips into the mattress, gaze half-lidded as he eyes Jisung’s boner with the slightest hint of condescension in his expression. It has no right being hot as it is. “How are you this hard already.”
Jisung wants to say something cocky like, you’re the one who got hard giving me a dental exam or please don’t be mean to me because I’m totally going to come, but it proves too difficult to string together a coherent sentence. Instead he wheezes, “You’re hot,” because he’s a KOMCA-certified wordsmith.
Jeongin grimaces and utters under his breath, “Cringe,” and then ducks down and mercilessly seals his lips around the embarrassingly leaky tip of his cock.
“Fucking fuck.” Jisung hiccups, trying and failing to avert his gaze for the sake of his sanity as Jeongin works his way down, each bob of his head slipping Jisung further into his mouth. He’s impatient, as always, too eager to feign disinterest, brow furrowed in concentration and twisting with annoyance everytime he gags and has to try again. It doesn’t deter him long. Jisung knows better at this point than to try and coach him through it, or even suggest slowing down - Jeongin won’t - but he still can’t help the way he croaks, “Innie, fuck, careful, you have vocal practise tomorrow, your throat-“
Jeongin slips off him, licking at his flushed head. “You’re not that big. I’ll be fine.” A blurt of precome smears across his shiny bottom lip and the unimpressed look Jisung gets for it has him throbbing while he moans weakly, lifting his hands to cover his face in shame and arousal. Jeongin must have no faith in him, because he squeezes the base of his cock like he’s expecting him to blow his load just from a little- wait. Yeah.
“Jesus, Innie, you’re-“ he tongues at his slit and Jisung helplessly watches through his fingers as as precum joins the drool dripping down Jeongin’s chin. He’s so wet, messy with it like he’s teasing - like he knows exactly what he’s doing which he does - as he rubs the tip over his tongue before sliding back down again, deeper this time. “If you keep doing that I’m really, really not gonna last, dude, fuck-“
Jeongin pops off again with a smack, swollen lips slick and shiny with spit as his jaw drops in disgust. Jisung is going to kill him, actually! “Did you just call me dude? When I have your dick in my mouth?” The hand curled around the rest of his cock tightens once again and all Jisung can is stare at him dumbly, slack-jawed, suddenly hyperaware of Jeongin’s thumb stroking and pressing at the vein along the underside of his shaft. Danger. It’s like a nuclear detonator and Jeongin knows it.
“Ngh?” Jisung manages, trying to make his eyes as wide as possible. Jeongin scoffs, but even as his lip curls a single dimple pops, and Jisung has to start praying again for the first time in years to not come instantly, especially when the pressure of his thumb becomes a nail digging into his sensitive flesh. “Please- please keep going. Or I’m gonna die. Baby.”
A sniff. “Better.” This time when he returns it’s with purpose, more urgency, cheeks hollowing, and Jisung is left utterly useless. His legs are trapped beneath Jeongin, and the hand not on his cock is gripping his hip so hard Jisung knows he’ll have a bruise tomorrow. Jeongin makes a noise in the back of his throat when Jisung twitches in his mouth, but it’s a good one- a moan that vibrates all the way to Jisung’s curling toes, and he grasps for the blanket beneath him frantically. Jeongin doesn’t let up, because he’s a monster, and he’s got it out for him, and he doesn’t want him to live to see twenty-four.
Jisung’s vision swims as he stares at the bulge in Jeongin’s cheek, the head of his cock visible under the flushed skin. It’s obscene. He’s obscene. Jeongin’s eyelashes flutter and the small, crystalline tears beading at his waterline quiver with the motion, not yet falling as Jeongin blinks them away stubbornly before once again trying to take Jisung to the back of his throat. When he swallows around him Jisung moans, high and reedy, fists clenched in the sheets to fight the urge to buck his hips upwards. The hand still curled over his hipbone squeezes, perhaps soothing, perhaps warning.
Jisung’s voice is raspy, shot to hell and back, like he’s the one doing the hard work. “You look so good like this, Innie.” Jeongin’s nostrils flare. He bobs his head, neck flexing, taking Jisung as far as he can go. Jisung can feel his throat contracting and laughs in panicked delirium. Jeongin doesn’t like it when he comes too early. Jisung doesn’t know if it’s early or late or right about time. All he knows is he’s holding on by the skin of his teeth. “So- so fucking good. Perfect for hyung.”
The next time Jeongin gags the tears finally fall, and Jisung exhales like he’s been punched. “Innie, Innie, g’nna come, please-”
Jeongin, cheeks ruddy and eyes watery, pulls upwards but stubbornly keeps his lips sealed around his cockhead. It’s too much- the visual of him, the way he insistently tugs on whatever he can’t get into his mouth, his shoulders so broad between Jisung’s legs, and he can only tremor as he comes into Jeongin’s waiting mouth. He bows upwards, tummy pulling tight as he tries to muffle his own whines. Jeongin squeezes his hip, somehow managing to frown up at him even as he fights to swallow.
Jisung is still struggling to catch his breath when Jeongin declares him finished, rubbing under his eyes with a wince. “Would it kill you to drink some of Channie-hyung’s pineapple juice once in a while?” he croaks, smacking his lips.
“Please don’t bring up hyung when you just made me come,” Jisung groans, pained. Jeongin shrugs unapologetically, crawling upwards to seat himself in Jisung’s lap, grinding his clothed cock against his soft tummy pointedly. “Okay, okay, Jesus. Give me a minute.”
“Hyung,” Jeongin mutters, pawing at him as he sits up to get his hands on him properly, “come on, I was even mean to you-”
“You’re so impatient!” Jisung laughs breathlessly, rucking Jeongin’s shirt up his stomach to get to the strings of his old sweatshorts. It takes a little manhandling to get them down his skinny hips and under the soft swell of his ass, Jeongin bare beneath the fabric. Jisung tries and fails to bite back his smile. “Good thing you’re cute, Innie.”
“Don’t turn this around on me, you’re not in charge,” Jeongin says, voice airy as Jisung wraps a hand around his slick cock. “Fuck.” His head thunks forward against Jisung’s shoulder, hot pants against the collar of his shirt as he fucks his hips up into Jisung’s grip. Jisung twists his wrist and Jeongin shudders. “M’close, hyung.”
“You got all worked up just sucking me off?” Jisung chides, and Jeongin ruthlessly pinches under his ribs. “Hey! Hey. Don’t kill the messenger.”
Jeongin whines, “You’re so annoying,” but it lacks any heat, curling up at the edges like his fingers as he digs them into his shirt, eyes scrunching up and lips parting.
“I think you’re into it,” Jisung mumbles, pumping up and down double time as he nudges his nose against Jeongin’s forehead. “C’mere. Kiss.”
Jeongin pulls his face out of Jisung’s shoulder and mashes their mouths together, uncoordinated now. Jisung swipes his thumb over the head of his cock and squeezes, and Jeongin’s breath hitches and he instinctively bites down on Jisung’s lip in reaction. He’s sensitive everywhere, and Jisung likes to remind him of it. To let him know that he knows Jeongin as well as he knows Jisung.
“Cutie,” Jisung repeats, just to get a rise out of him. “Baby.”
Jeongin gasps into his mouth, and it signals the end. Jisung wraps an arm around his torso and holds him close as he shakes, coming with a soft cry. It’s warm, spilling over fingers and some smearing against his tummy, his shirt still thankfully held out of the way by Jisung’s quick-thinking.
Jisung presses his cheek against Jeongin’s and waits patiently as he comes down from his high, the tremors lingering as they always do, humming under his breath. Jeongin’s cheek is plush and soft. Jisung wants to bite it.
“Thanks,” Jeongin says eventually, because he’s polite. Jisung nibbles on his cheekbone to reward himself for doing a good job. “Weirdo.”
“Again, you like it. Also, you literally felt up my teeth and got a boner.”
“I’d like to be clean more.” He doesn’t refute the teeth bit.
“How much longer is the dorm empty for?” Jisung asks, and Jeongin squints up at judgmentally.
“Probably not long enough to account for you getting it up again.”
Jisung splutters, slapping his back with the hand still holding his shirt. “Okay, hey, the mean is only nice when it’s horny and sexy! Now it’s just mean!”
Jeongin’s smile is saccharine but his voice is taunting, high-pitched as he parrots, “but you like it!”
“I like you.”
Jeongin bites his shoulder, exposed where he’d pulled on his shirt, and Jisung yowls in pain.
Yet still, somehow, he doesn’t mind it.